


Homemade Christmas

by cactusandalily



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, Trixie thinks she is spending christmas alone but katya shows up and saves the day, a little christmas fic inspired by Christmas Without You, it's not angst aren't you proud of me?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:30:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactusandalily/pseuds/cactusandalily
Summary: Suddenly the pristine house on the cover of Martha’s book seemed like a joke, and the light reflecting on the stupid mirrored ornament Katya had chosen was blinding him. Mindlessly he took out his phone and snapped a picture of it, wrote over “roses are red, this day is like a shot to the knee, look at this picture of the shit hanging from my tree” and uploaded it to his Instagram, wondering how the hell Katya managed to come up with those bizarre rhymes so easily. And he was supposed to be the lyricist out of the two of them.-----Just a silly Christmas fic set in Dec 2016 and based on "Christmas Without You" by Trixie. Special thanks to boonoir for coming up with the rhymes when my brain got stuck and for loving these two idiots as much as me. Happy birthday girl!





	Homemade Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boonoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boonoir/gifts).



“Well, fuck you Martha Stewart” he called out for no one to hear. The strong smell of burnt cookies was sure to make its way and fill his entire apartment, drowning out the vanilla candles he had lit a few hours prior. Not that it mattered. He could burn down the house for all he cared, all efforts completely useless now.

It was his second christmas in LA and his fifth one away from Wisconsin. It was truly the very first one where he longed for the big snow storms and the warmth from the fireplace fed by logs he had dragged all the way to the house by himself, met with a thankful nod from his mum for his effort. He thought back to Christmas Eve at his grandparents’ house, fighting to stay awake and rushing down the stairs in the early morning to find a jagged guitar case and his grandfather’s proud face when he had spent the whole day inside mesmerized by the instrument.

He looked over his sad tree that kept wobbling to one side and was close to falling over no matter how much he tried to steady the base. It was decorated with funky ornaments he had found at a vintage store in Indiana with Katya months ago, and Brian rolled his eyes at the mere thought of how his friend could have decorated her tree this time, last year’s one featuring various semi-dried fruits that had force Katya to throw it away before the 25th or else face an army of ants festering on it.

He emptied the pan with the carbonized cookies in the trash, half thankful that at least he wasn’t going to stay on his own and munch on a dozen chocolate covered pastries. From his living room he could hear Colin Firth learning Portuguese to win over his love, and what had felt heartwarming a few minutes ago seemed pathetic now. Brian snorted at the TV and put it on mute, dialing his voicemail again and listening to the same message for the third time.

“Hey baby, I’m sorry but I’m snowed in and no one’s flying anywhere. I tried the passive aggressive tone you use with Delta One, and then the dry tone you use with the front desk people but had no luck. Wish you could have come here. I’ll see you next year Brian, I love you”

David sounded truly apologetic and honest, and both of them knew flying on the 24th was risky. But after the initial disappointment and anger had died off, Brian kept focusing on his boyfriend telling him he wished he could’ve flown to New York. He had been feeling guilty about it for weeks, and now he was certain this was some karmic punishment for pretty much not trying harder. He didn’t have any shows until the 29th and they had wrapped filming at WoW two weeks ago, and both him and David knew that. They also had discussed how Brian didn’t want to leave LA for the holidays, but certainly avoided talking about the fact that he didn’t want to meet his boyfriend’s family. It was cowardly and he knew it, they had been dating for 6 months and it was the healthiest most grown up relationship Brian had ever been in, yet somehow he wasn’t ready for the next step. He wanted to stay put, just wanted a nice homemade christmas with his boyfriend, pretending it was actually cold in his one bedroom apartment, opening presents under the tree, the perfect cookies on the table, his fucking 20 dollar Martha Stewart book put to good use. Instead, he was looking ahead a night of take out and beers, sappy movies that would make him even more bitter and the longing for the generic store made cookies he secretly loved. 

From his tree a particular ugly looking ornament stood up, almost mocking him. He glanced over his phone, and knew if he picked it up he wasn’t going to replay David’s message again. So he just went to his bedroom and grabbed his guitar. Martha fucking Stewart, Delta One and that ugly ornament be damned. 

———————————-

Almost an our later, he was stuck on writing lyrics like he hadn’t been in a while, but the melody flew easily from his fingers. He put his guitar pick between his lips and looked around his place. His apartment wasn’t what you’d call minimalist but it wasn’t filled with clutter either, each piece that cohabited with him had a special meaning and he was choosy about what he brought into his home - the Barbie paintings above his bed, the cross stitches in his bathroom, the fluffy rug that was in danger every time Dan brought Lily over to frolic around -: Brian was proud of all he had built for himself, and looked around once more. He had propped this house up but yet here he was, without anyone to share it with. 

He made his way pass the kitchen, knowing his guitar laid expectant, and ached to bring it by and play a few more notes. He was certain if he pushed forward he could get this song out, but knew it was probably an excuse to not deal with the thought of why he didn’t want to fly to New York or had an honest conversation about it. What was he so scared to leave behind? He was at the prime time in his career, had lots of hopes for 2017 professionally and he was glad to have found David, finally someone who wanted the same things Brian did and who was stable and present and predictable in a good way. Yes, that was what he always had dream of. They are waving flags in the island of Trixie Mattel. Everything was perfect, but suddenly that perfection around him didn’t bring him joy but second guessing.

He thought about the leaking faucet in his bathroom, about the squeaky floor in his hallway, about the perfectly good wallpaper he had ruined while trying to get creative hanging some frames, about the damn cookies and all the failed relationships and business opportunities he had screwed up. 

Suddenly the pristine house on the cover of Martha’s book seemed like a joke, and the light reflecting on the stupid mirrored ornament Katya had chosen was blinding him. Mindlessly he took out his phone and snapped a picture of it, wrote over _“roses are red, this day is like a shot to the knee, look at this picture of the shit hanging from my tree”_ and uploaded it to his Instagram, wondering how the hell Katya managed to come up with those bizarre rhymes so easily. And he was supposed to be the lyricist out of the two of them.

———

 

He had a good portion of the first verse down when he heard a knock at his door, and realized his phone had been left abandoned on the table, where it had probably already died down. He answered without questioning who would be wondering around WeHo at dinner time on Christmas Eve, and had to blink twice to focus on the figure in front of him. At his eye level were two plushy reindeer antlers decorated with pompoms that clearly hadn’t come with the hat and that seemed anything but belonging to Christmas time, more like some hunting souvenir reimagined by a kid. Underneath the hat, a forehead with a pointed receding hairline stood out, but neither the lights inside his house nor the reflection on her tinsel necklace beamed as bright as her smile. 

Brian felt like a kid staring at one of Santa’s elves at the mall, the ones you are sure aren’t real but you know are magical either way. Katya was wearing a green sweater that seemed more itchy than cozy, but was looking warmly at Brian’s face and holding two paper bags. Suddenly her expression turned solemn and Brian realized he hadn’t said a word for the last minute. 

“I came to rescue my medallion ornament from your abuse” she said and squinted her eyes and flashed a perfect set of teeth as she couldn’t maintain her straight face and burst into laughter. Brian was stunned but couldn’t get a word out. Maybe because of his silence or the way in which Brian kept looking intensely at her, Katya seemed uncomfortable for a moment and he could tell the wheels in her head were spinning, wondering if showing up was a good decision. 

“Are you gonna let me in or there’s some phantom mistletoe hidden you’re making us stand under?” she asked looking up and biting her lips just slightly and then smirking, making Brian roll his eyes and make way for her to come in. 

“Wait a minute, how did you know I was alone?” he asked, closing the door and hearing music coming from his neighbor’s house.

“What makes you think I did?” Katya responded, deliberately not looking at him and making her way to his kitchen.

“Because I know you wouldn’t just show up if you thought I was with David. Not after last time”. Brian helped her grab the glasses from the cabinet that was always to high for Katya to reach, hovering over her but careful not to press their bodies together. She startled, like she wasn’t anticipating him to speak so close to her

“I know, and I’m sorry again, you gave me a key-” Katya tried to explain

“ -key was for emergencies”

“Anyways, I saw some ranty post David made about hating Delta and LA. Thought I would put two and two together, plus your unnecessary hate towards that beautiful, carefully picked tchotchke gracing your tree, and decided to come rescue you from spending Christmas playing video games with some 15 year olds hiding from their parents” Katya scrunched her nose the way she did when she was trying to speak seriously but her face forced her to smile. Once, many months ago while watching her speak from a distance, Brian had thought that was his favorite face in the world. Not only his favorite expression of Katya, but just his favorite face ever. 

Katya was already fussing over his tree, messing up the tidy set up of gifts Brian had laid underneath it. She had her phone out and looked pointedly at Brian like she was about to scold him for his dig at the ornament, but then snapped a picture and a few seconds later his phone dinged with the sound of a notification, miraculously still alive.

_“Roses are red,_  
@trixiemattel spent the whole day slacking  
I hope he can make up  
For what his Xmas tree is lacking” 

“Bitch” Brian laughed and inspected inside the bags of food Katya had brought over, finding a box of generic cookies that tasted like plastic and were bright red and green. Just like the ones his mum used to buy and that were probably better than the homemade ones he had tried to make. 

“Don’t even think about it” Katya said without looking up from his tree, where she was rearranging most of his ornaments and looking with disdain at his Christmas lights like they had personally offended her. “Those are for later, when you inevitable break down and tell me why you’re spending Christmas alone”

“I’m not alone,” Brian said, half to reassure himself he really wasn’t, and half to get Katya to change the conversation. “I have you.”

Katya did drop the topic, and instead focused on telling Brian about both the catholic and pagan origins of Christmas. She had that focused look on her face again and was sitting next to Brian’s window, her hand out in the mild cold dropping ashes from her cigarette mindlessly. For the second time in the night Brian felt like he could stare at her all night and probably all day, and turned to focus on the discarded boxes of food in the table, a sudden feeling of guilt creeping up on him. Katya may have sensed the change in the air because when Brian looked up again she was staring at him intensely and her loud voice had made way to a quiet tone.

“Why didn’t you fly there?”. She was looking at him differently now, soft and expectant. The question that had haunted Brian for the last weeks but that he was too scared to really wrap his mind around was finally there, out in the open.

He started playing with the string from the presents that were on the floor next to him and shrugged. He knew that Katya was not going to be satisfied with that as an answer, so he just offered a “I just really wanted to stay in LA” that made Katya huff, but at least she didn’t press him further. 

Brian knew one of the reasons he didn’t want to leave was sitting in front of him, beaming and taking photos of her reindeer antlers once more, and the realization suffocated him. Even if he knew it sounded crazy, he could swear suddenly he was overheated from the fake fireplace in the video that was running on his laptop, his last attempt to make their Christmas cozy and perfect, like Martha would have envisioned. 

He knew he needed to get out and get some air, because nothing made sense. He was heartbroken about his boyfriend two hours ago, he couldn’t make sense around wanting to stay there just because of Katya. He had to walk clumsily over her to get to the window and finally to his balcony, and could see the questioning look in her face. 

December in LA was particularly un-Christmas like, due in part to the weather that only required he wore a light sweater, and in part to the fact that Hollywood seemed like an ongoing annual celebration of its own, so detached from Holiday traditions and suspended in its own time. 

“Are you okay there?” Katya had followed him outside but was only now making herself known. Brian didn’t know how long he had been staring at the street, and just nodded and ran a hand over his face while the familiar smell of smoke filled the small space they were both standing in. He looked up at Katya, so honestly grateful to have her there, not just today, but all year-long. He could deal with LA’s obnoxious traffic and smog, its pretentious people and crazy weather if it meant he got to share it all with her, if it meant nights like this when they just showed up at each other’s doorsteps were possible. It dawned on him that he didn’t know if Katya had plans for tonight and she had cancelled them, or if she was going to spend the night on her own had David come and kept Brian occupied. 

“Good, because I can hear those cookies calling your name, and I had to go to three different places to find them, so you better be thankful. And I also want to open my presents bitch, which better be many and better be special” she laughed.

As he laughed too because yes, they were many and they were weird and meaningful just like she was, Brian realized he really didn’t deserve Katya. He knew she felt that way too, or so she said after long phone conversations when Brian struggled to stay awake but did so only so Katya would feel more at ease at her hotel room when her anxiety creeped in on her. 

He smiled and lead them in, giving a last glance at his “001: Christmas” book and looking at the weird figures in his medallion ornament that seemed to be dancing with the lights reflecting on it. Maybe his Christmas ended up pretty perfect after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and leave me your feedback here or on tumblr/cactus-and-a-lily. Happy Holidays!!


End file.
